d indeed in range, but rampant within
that range,--and thereby throws the influence of highest authority in
favor of, rather than against, that reckless profusion, display, and
dissipation which is the weakness and the bane of our social life. It
signalizes in a marked and public manner the completion of the most
varied and thorough course of study in the country, and the
commencement of a career which should be the most noble and beneficial,
not by peculiar and appropriate ceremonies, but by the commonest rites
of the lecture-room and ball-room; and I cannot but think that,
especially at this period of history, when no treasure is esteemed too
precious for sacrifice, and the land is red with the blood of her best
and bravest,--when Harvard herself mourns for her children lost, but
glories in heroes fallen,--that the most obvious and prominent customs
of Class-Day would be more honored in the breach than in the observance.

I look upon the violation of hospitality as one of the seven deadly
sins,--a sin for which no punishment is too great; but this sin I have
not consciously, and I do not think I have actually, committed. I
cannot but suspect, that, if I had employed the language of exclusive
eulogy,--such language as is employed at and concerning the
Commencement dinners and the Alumni dinners, I might have described the
celebration of Class-Day with much more minuteness than I have
attempted to do, and should have heard no complaints of violated
hospitality. This I would gladly have done, had it been possible. As
it was not, I have pointed out those features which seemed to me
objectionable,--certainly with no design so ridiculous as that of
setting up myself against Harvard University, but equally certainly
with no heart so craven as to shrink from denouncing what seemed to me
wrong because it would be setting myself against Harvard University.
Opinions must be judged by their own weight, not by the weight of the
persons who utter them. The fair fame of Harvard is the possession of
every son and daughter of Massachusetts, and the least stain that mars
her escutcheon is the sorrow of all. But Harvard is not the Ark of the
Covenant, to be touched only by consecrated hands, upon penalty of
instant death. She is honorable, but not sacred; wise, but not
infallible. To Christo et Ecclesiae, she has a right; to Noli me
tangere, she has none. A very small hand may hurl an arrow. If it is
heaven-directed, it may p